


Cruelty's Heart

by Madame_Butterfly



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Restitution - Eliza Graham, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Anxiety, Death, Grief/Mourning, Humanitarianism is entirely disregarded, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lots of death and dying, M/M, Mpreg, My French is rather good though, My German is apalling, Soviet's are bastards, They start out as friends first., lots of death, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Butterfly/pseuds/Madame_Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thread that holds Europe together has finally unraveled and all hell has broken loose. </p><p>Loki Laufeyjarson recounts his plights at a time when the world was in ruins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Eliza Grahams marvellously epic novel 'Restitution'
> 
> Warnings for violence, sexual assault, attempted murder, death, malnutrition and strong language.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly welcomed, even if it's just a 'Well done' but please don't be too cruel with your criticisms.
> 
> Literary prowess is to be desired.

There he was, a thirty two year old adult, he'd birthed three children, fled the Soviets and yet he hadn't the courage to speak to the man he'd been married to for thirteen years. 

"Thor, I couldn't, I've never talked about this to anyone" he spoke in English, articulate and precise, he paced the drawing room in his parents-in-law's Parisian manor, it survived its occupiers, once in a time of rebellion and second a time of war. 

Thor wanted to take him back to the Fatherland, all the way home, to the imposing manor with it's pale blue kitchen tiles and the lavender and rose bushes, back where on the fateful night all those years ago all hell broke loose. Thor said they were going to spend the Christmas season on the continent with Thor's family. Not entirely true but not entirely false either. He was a Laufeyjarson, the last in a line of hundreds of courageous men and women, they were brave and stalwart in all things, they didn't scream when being tortured on the rack, they didn't desert in battle, they weren't afraid to speak their mind. But he was different. 

"Loki, please, let me in" Said Thor, his voice was warm like dark honey. 

"No-you don't want to be let in" Loki was curt "There is so much you don't want to know" he could hear Thèrese and Frieda playing upstairs with Frigga. They were playing house, Frigga was the mother, Thèrese was the father and Frieda was the daughter. It reminded him of when he was younger and he'd do things around the manor pretending he was the housekeeper or something of the sort. 

Thor looked hurt, he sunk into his chair defeated "At least let me take you back to –" He pauses his brow furrowing "–Klontarf" the large imposing manor in the east of Europe, where he grew up sheltered from all the wrongs in the world until they were at the doorstep of the imposing manor. 

"Thor" breathes Loki "If I tell you, promise me you will take everything I say to the grave, do not tell a soul, not Frigga, not Odin and especially not Thèrese and Frieda" 

"Loki, you know I-" Thor starts but is cut off by Loki. 

"Promise me now or I won't tell you a thing" Loki scowls

"I promise, in the name of my mother I won't tell anyone, not ever" Thor says solemnly moving to the chaise where Loki has sat. He puts a comforting arm around Loki's shoulder. 

"I suppose I had best start towards the end of the war" says Loki, incredulous that he now is going to tell Thor absolutely everything, there is no need for exaggeration, it was the cold hard truth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's journey begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Eliza Grahams marvellously epic novel 'Restitution'
> 
> Warnings for violence, sexual assault, attempted murder, death, malnutrition and strong language.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly welcomed, even if it's just a 'Well done' but please don't be too cruel with your criticisms.
> 
> Literary prowess is to be desired.

Mama had told him to remain at Klontarf and await her phone call, her directive, she'd gone ahead of Loki to Papa's town house in Berlin to make sure everything was as it should be before he left for Berlin. They were coming, the murderous rapists in their filthy unkempt uniforms.

 

Mama'd given him a gun, the one Papa had given her a few weeks ago, the one with the pearl handle.

 

_'Only shoot if you mean to kill someone'_ Mama told him pressing it into his trembling hands. He knew that if he didn't leave soon he'd have to use it for certain, he'd heard what the reds had done, about all those poor vexed souls fleeing the murderous masses.

 

Mama had tried to keep him from everything, all the wrongs in the world. But that was in vain, the wrongs in the world were making their way along the manor  façade.

 

She phoned Loki late one night she was brief and quick with her words, he had come running from his bed, still in the silk pyjamas she got him from Paris a few years back.

 

“Leave Klontarf early tomorrow morning, take only what is necessary and go west, to the Americans or the British they wont be as bad as the Ivans” She told him.

 

“Mama!” Loki cried “What about you?”

 

“Do not worry child, I will be fine, I promise, write to me at Papa's house in Berlin when you are settled and I will find you, I promise” She spoke purposefully, Loki was trying not to sob “Loki” She said in softest tones “We are Laufeyjarsons we do not weep”

 

“Yes Mama, I love you, _Adieu_ ” He whispered regaining his composure and straightening his back, Mama would be appalled if she saw him like this.

 

“You too, _Liebling_ , _Abschied_ “ She said it quickly by nevertheless lovingly before she hang up.

 

His rest that night was sleepless coming only early in the morning, he could hear a wolf outside, he must have been driven out from his home by the Ivans as Loki soon would. He would start out not as the Count Laufeyjarson but as Loki Laufeyjarson, Private Citizen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has left Klontarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Eliza Grahams marvellously epic novel 'Restitution'
> 
> Warnings for violence, sexual assault, attempted murder, death, malnutrition and strong language.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly welcomed, even if it's just a 'Well done' but please don't be too cruel with your criticisms.
> 
> Literary prowess is to be desired.

It had snowed over night and there was a thick white mist. A few years ago on a day like this he'd have persuaded Thrym; the housekeepers boy, to come out and play with him. Thrym didn't like the snow but he did like Loki so naturally he went out in the snow. Loki smiles at the memory drinking the last of his coffee in one gulp, he used the last teaspoon of coffee and the little bit of sugar left. It was stronger than he was used to but he'd be a fool not to know he'd need the energy. 

 

His carpet bag with the belongings he has deemed necessary sits on the table by the dying fire, the revolver next to it with a dangerous glint. 

 

His eye catches Mama's oil portrait above the fire, she never approved of guns when used against people, whenever Papa hunted there was a tense silence at the dinner table and Mama refused to eat the meat and told Loki not to, he obeyed. 

 

Loki heard on the wireless about the victories of the Soviets and the endless German failures. The Soviets were moving fast, he'd been able to get through to cousin Helblindi in Lower-Saxony who'd said if he could get there his home was open to him. Helblindi was only a few years older than Loki, but aside from Helblindi's address that was all he knew, considering he hadn't seen this distant cousin in almost ten years. 

 

Loki knew it was time to leave.

 

He donned his long red fur-lined coat, with its concealed diamond buttons, put on his fur hat, slid on his leather gloves and fixed the silk scarf around his neck. The gun, a bringer of death sat in his pocket he could feel the bulk against his thigh. Carpet bag in hand he left his secluded ancestral home and with that the Count Laufeyjarson was effectively left behind remnant of the past leaving as Loki Laufeyjarson; Private Citizen, leaving to endure the harrowing ordeal which would without a doubt follow. 

 

He could feel them already, the vodka  on their breaths the men who'd fight and take the ammunition from their fallen enemies, the ruthless murderers and rapists. He was terrified beyond belief, a Laufeyjarson, terrified, bad times, bad times indeed.

 

 

_O_ _ nce when Loki was younger he saw a spider on Aunt Louise's portrait, he shrieked like a little girl and ran to Mama who also shrieked when she went to kill it for him.  _

 

_Thrym ended up saving them from the spider picking it up with a cup and some paper and sending it on it's way._

 

_Mama threw away the cup and burnt the paper._

 

_Loki lamented bitterly because he was afraid of the spider which Thrym had assured was more scared of him than he of it, though he tried to make things better Thrym only ended up making them worse, the thought is what counts though._

 

_"People are afraid of lots of things" Thrym told him_

 

_"I'm almost fifteen, I shouldn't be scared of spiders"_

 

_"I'm-I'm scared of rats" Thrym said in a whisper just loud enough for Loki to hear, he was clearly embarrassed, his cheeks flushed._

 

_"Me too" whispered Loki even quieter in conspiratorial tones like when they were seven and nine. Thrym reached for his hand and squeezed._

 

 

Loki was surprised by how quickly he moved, the Soviet ground forces hadn't reached Stettin yet, their air force on the other hand had, marking that soon the Soviet masses would march upon the land, but people knew better than to think they'd be safe from the blood-thirsty hoards. So he joined the flood families who fled the inevitable, the Soviets would be near soon, not that they weren't already, he could swear he smelt a mixture of blood and vodka in the air.

 

The poor souls had gathered all they could carry and had much like Loki fled at the last moment. 

 

 _'A sorry bunch we are'_ muttered a woman to nobody in particular.

 

Nobody complained, Germans always complained.

 

He could never look at the bodies, men, women...children. Nobody had been spared regardless of age or gender had been spared by the Soviets bombs. He kept walking unless there was possibility of food or blankets, he was as humanitarian as his mother, it was hard for him when he vowed he would put himself first always, self-preservation is not cowardly. Not when fleeing blood thirsty masses.

 

 

He kept a pace, a steady but quick pace, his leather boots were in a fine condition; they were graceful and light, not like the pair Papa always wore when he went for his walks, his coat, if a bit damp was in a respectable condition in spite of the circumstances at hand.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Lower-Saxony was in the British Occupation zone


End file.
